


Stereotypes are for Sissies

by RayByAnotherName



Category: SEAL Team (TV)
Genre: Brian lives!, Dom/sub, Episode Related, Fluff and Angst, Gen, M/M, Team Dynamics, Team as Family
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-05-03
Updated: 2019-07-01
Packaged: 2020-02-16 20:34:39
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 9
Words: 15,899
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18698683
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/RayByAnotherName/pseuds/RayByAnotherName
Summary: In which Clay Spenser is a sub masquerading as a dom and Brian Armstrong is impossible to interrogate.AKA - A season one AU in which Brian lives and everyone has a dom/sub designation.





	1. Episode 1

**Author's Note:**

> I don't know what prompted this, but I just started rewatching season 1 and realized we have a shortage of Brian fics, so... we'll see where this goes?

It took Jason about an hour after the AAR to figure out what it was about Clay Spenser that set him off. It wasn't his father - though Ash had always been a dick, even before the book - and it wasn't Nate - though the kid certainly had some similarities. No. 

He was a sub. 

The fact had clicked into place when he saw a man from Green Team meet him at the gate. Memory filtered through. Brian Armstrong. He was leading the class right now. 

Armstrong slung an arm around Spenser's shoulder and Clay sunk into the embrace before he shoved Brian away with a joke. It was a quick interaction. Seconds. The two bumped shoulders as they walked off after, towards a Camaro and eventually a bar.

It all fell into place then. A lightbulb went off in his head, the stars aligned, all that crap. He knew. 

Oh, the kid hid it well. He walked the walk and talked the talk, but it was just a bit too forced at times. That was what had set Jason's instincts going off. 

The kid was faking it. 

"Say that again?" Ray set his beer down without even taking a swig. Jason sunk into the sofa. "He's a sub?"

"It ain't like it's in his file, but yeah, I'm pretty sure." 

Ray's mouth twitched. "You got a problem with that?" 

"I got a problem with him faking otherwise." Jason took a long drag from his beer when he saw Ray cross his arms.

"You know any subs in the teams? Any?" He didn't, which Ray knew. There'd been a few switches who'd gotten into Green Team, but to his knowledge the Teams were all doms and dom-switches. 

"Sonny's pretty close to a 50-split switch." Jason shrugged. Ray scoffed. "Alright, I take your point." 

Ray finally took a swig, "The fact that he's been able to hide it this long is just further testament to his abilities." Now it was Jason's turn to scoff. 

"I think it's a testament to Armstrong's ability to help him fake it." Jason gulped down the last of his beer and pulled the file from his bag. "He and Spenser have been in the same unit since BUD/S. Never the same team, but same deployments and same trainings."

"Same barracks." Ray filled in the last of it. "Last I checked DADT was repealed." Jason growled. "I still don't get the issue, Jace."

Jason pulled a hand down his face, "What happens when the kid doesn't have Armstrong to help him?"

"Armstrong might be helping him cover up his designation, but he's not completing the kid's missions for him. That's all Spenser. You saw him in action." 

He had. 

Jason blew out a breath. Ray handed him another beer, "Look, fact is we don't know there's never been a sub in the Teams. It isn't tracked. Never has been. Far as we know, someone else might have pulled the same trick as the kid."

"No way a SEAL can keep that from his whole team." Jason paused, beer on his lip, "You think teams have been covering for subs?"

"Probably not often," Ray sank into his arm chair. Their profession lent itself to a certain stereotype for a reason.

Jason set his beer down. "How hard you think it would be to keep something like that from command?" 

"We could ask Armstrong." Ray smirked when he saw Jason's eyes glaze over in thought. Bravo was getting their very own sub, whether Jason wanted to admit to it or not. 

-.-.-

Armstrong kept a genial smile on his face even as Jason Hayes slammed him into a wall. Ray gave him points for that. Armstrong just straightened up against the wall when Hayes stepped back. 

"Master Chief Hayes. Senior Chief Perry." Armstrong gave a nod to each of the two men now looming over him, arms crossed. "What can I do for you?"

"Spenser's a sub." Hayes' words brought a quick eye flicker, but the smile didn't drop. "You're helping him hide it."

"That's insane." Armstrong chuckled, only a tad forced. "Sir." 

Hayes narrowed his eyes at the address, his body tensed. Ray smirked, "You're good." Ray put a hand on Haye's shoulder before the man could tear into Armstrong about respect. "But we're not here to bust you, or Spenser." 

"What are you here for?" Armstrong kept on smiling. He eyed the supply closet they'd shoved him into with faint interest, "Cause I've seen enough porn to be concerned." 

"Are you always this frustrating?" Jason's jaw ticked. Ray stifled a laugh - obviously Spenser wasn't the only one who could fake it. Armstrong looked cool as a cucumber, but Ray knew he had to be freaking out. 

Armstrong shrugged, "You always this amicable?" Ray bit back another laugh.

"Okay, maybe we should take this guy for Bravo instead of Spenser." Ray dropped his arms to his side and looked at Jason. "He and Sonny? I'd pay money." 

He would too. He'd bet a pretty penny that Armstrong would have Sonny foaming at the mouth in minutes.

"Bravo wants Spenser?" Armstrong's smile dropped as his face contorted into something akin to a suspicious hope. 

Jason grumbled, "Thinking on it." Ray rolled his eyes and look at Armstrong. 

"Can he deploy without you? If there's other doms around to look after him?" Ray asked the question and then took an immediate step back at the sudden rage that crossed Armstrong's face.

"Clay doesn't need looking after." The genial attitude was gone. The great Jason Hayes even straightened at the flat tone that Armstrong adopted. He shoved his way past them and out of the closet. 

"Well," Hayes look at Ray, sarcastic grin place, "That went well." Ray sighed. He'd be sleeping with one eye open, the way Armstrong had been looking at them.


	2. Episode 2

Brian kind of wanted to smack the smirk off of Clay's face. He'd barely beat him on the obstacle course. Barely! A few seconds, if that. 

He was use to the competition, that was just Green Team, but Clay had a chip on his shoulder roughly the size of Canada on a good day. And he'd had very few good days since they'd started the selection process. 

Not that Brian was planning to tell him that - not yet anyway. The only thing worse than a competitive Clay was a pouty one. Brian was not dealing with that, not with the instructors watching. 

He caught Bravo team glancing at their table during lunch. He gritted his teeth, made small talk. Brian hadn't told Clay about his interrogation with Hayes and Perry either. Nor did he plan to. 

That didn't mean he couldn't internally plot the demise of a few Tier 1 operators. 

Then Seaver came over…

"Today, you get to judge each other.…" Dammit Spenser, could you look any more like an arrogant ass? It was a simple thing, keeping a blank face while Seaver talked. 

And yet…

"How come you don't post the top five?" 

Fucking hell. 

Brian knocked Clay's leg under the table, but the blond ignored him. God, he blamed Ash Spenser, seriously, how else did someone learn to equate being a dick to being a dom? 

"…if you're still here to get drafted into a Tier one team, then you made the grade. That clear, Mr. Spenser?"

Brian shook his head as Clay turned back to him with a grin. "Must you antagonize, Seaver?" Clay shrugged, his little smirk still dancing across his face. "This is how we get miles added to our runs."

"Worried you can't cut it, Bri?" 

He noticed the guys at the table trading looks as Clay looked back at his food. Winning hearts and minds everywhere he went… 

Clay'd never introduced him to Ash before. And the dried up piece of blubber that Spenser called a father had never actually visited his son. Not in the whole time he'd known Clay. But he had read the book…and he'd charmed a corpsman into giving him Clay's medical record. 

"Don't be an ass, Clay." The blond kept on grinning. 

Yeah. Blaming Ash Spenser made him feel better. 

-.-.-

Jason ignored Spenser's greeting as they walked by the table. A nagging tingle told him that it wasn't just the kid's arrogance that had him reaching for their attention. He didn't expect their acknowledgment, he wanted it.

Not that Jason could prove that. Or mention it. Ray'd greeted the kid first after all. 

Ray still thought it was the Nate thing that had him reluctant to consider Spenser. Which was not, wholly, wrong…but how can you judge a man's character when he's constructed a false persona to live by? 

He felt eyes on his neck and a surreptitious glance told him Brian Armstrong had not forgotten the conversation Ray and he had attempted to have with him. 

-.-.-

"Sonny's gone full Brother Bear," Trent elbowed Brock, pointed toward were Sonny was going over the jump procedure with the doc. 

Brock grinned, "Probably scaring the doc as much as he's teaching him."

"…silver lining, if that were to happen, both of us are going to be unconscious when we burn in. That's a good thing." 

Brock snorted, "10 bucks he pukes before exfil." He nodded towards the doc. 

"Nah, he's a sub, Brock," Trent shook his head, "He'll pass out." Jason's hand materialized behind his head before he could even laugh at his own joke.

"The doc's scared as hell, but here," Ray gave them each a pointed look as he passed them by, "Show some respect." 

-.-.-

"You know you don't have to carry these guys anymore, right?" 

Brian turned to look at Clay, eyebrow raised and a laugh on his lips. Clay's face was serious. Certain. "What's that mean?" 

He listened to Clay's reasoning. He got it - survival of the fittest and all that junk. It was BS though. 

"…No one's crazy about guys flying solo." 

Clay's face broke up. The certainty gone as he edged his comments. 

"We'll see tomorrow. Who's in the bottom five." The wall of arrogance flew back up. Brian shook his head, glanced around the room.

He knew who was on the list. He listened. No one was shy about their opinions. 

"Holy Mother…" Brian's gaze landed on a leggy brunette. Clay was out of his seat before he could even finish the though. "Hey man, give a brother a chance!" 

"Like I said bro, you gotta keep up." 

Brian watched Clay flirt. He kept his face neutral as the girl laughed sarcastically and smiled genuinely. Hard to get, that was her shtick. Clay's was direct - antagonistic. 

Oh. This would be fun. Brian took a swig of his beer. Laughed at Big Country's joke. 

The girl got up, Clay called after her, and she hit him with a zinger. Brian knew the blond was hooked when he saw the girl freeze at his dumb movie reference. Clay's goofy grin split his face.

-.-.-

Sonny strolled up to Trent and Brock on the tarmac. 

"I hear you two boneheads owe me 10$ each." 

Trent and Brock both looked confused. 

Sonny grinned, "Something about you two betting against my strap." Sonny gestured out, arms and grin widening, "He turned out to be a pretty brave SOB." 

Trent groaned, head falling back as he recalled their jokes from earlier. Brock shook his head, "That he did." They both produced the $10 dollars and Sonny whistled all the way onto the plane.

"Let that be a lesson to you," Sonny called back once he'd reached the top of the gangway, "Never underestimate a man because of a stereotype, you gotta judge him on his own character."

Brock flipped Sonny the bird and looked at Trent, "I hate when he has a point."

-.-.-

Brian watched Clay walk out of the ready room. A knot formed in his chest as he watched the doubt creeping up the man's spine. 

He didn't go after him, though he sure as hell wanted to. Clay'd needed the knock, needed to change his perspective. 

But it didn't make watching him walk away any easier.

"Mr. Armstrong," Seaver approached him, "You look worried." 

Brian glanced at the older man, plastered on his best genial smile, "I've been competing with Spenser since BUD/S, Master Chief, I'd hate to see him lose a step is all."

"You want him at his best when you win, huh?" Big Country called from his seat nearby. Brian nodded. 

Maybe now they'd get to see that best. 

"A man's most determined when he gets back up," Brian said instead. Seaver squinted at him, but nodded. 

-.-.-

"You gotta be real careful, deciding what's best for somebody else's life." 

Sonny's said it about the people in the VX factory, but the words were stuck in his head. Jason watched his son skate in the street, hockey stick in hand. 

He really hated when Sonny had a point. He pushed everything he knew about Clay Spenser aside, tried to look at the raw data: his mission success rate, his marksmanship scores, his BUD/S ranking. 

It wasn't Nate the kid reminded him of then, it was himself. Which, somehow, was much, much worse.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I have yet to decide on the integration of Stella, but for now I'm just going to follow canon until my headcanon says otherwise.
> 
> Hoping to update once a week until I finish up my classes, but my chapter fic track record says that's unlikely. ^_^'


	3. Episode 3

Brian could always tell when Clay was overcompensating for something. Usually it was to cover up whatever deficit he'd decided he had. Which was why Brian had taken it as a good sign when Clay'd refused to tap out during the carry drills. 

The first time. 

After the second time through Brian recognized what was going on. Clay wasn't overcompensating for his previously shit behavior. No. No, he was overcompensating cause he wanted to prove he could do it all without help. 

An escalation of his shit behavior. Great.

They'd officially reached the point of intervention. 

Brian waited till they got to the bar, of course. Everything is easier with a bit of alcohol. Clay already had his pathetic face on, which was really making the whole 'straightening him out' thing difficult. 

At least till he got Clay talking. It was a lot easier to ignore the urge to kiss Clay better when he wanted to punch him. 

"I see we've given up on the white knight approach."

Clay continued to pout, taking swigs from his beer as he generally ignored the world around him. He could see the guys getting antsy around the pool table. 

Only child sulking only went so far in a room full of doms. And Clay's glazed gaze was deepening - a mixture of alcohol and his submissive desire for protection. Brian knew it well. 

There'd be whispers, but he wasn't letting Clay slide further. 

"Spenser!" Brian tossed Clay's jacket onto his head. "Come on, pity party's over." 

He pulled Clay out of the bar, careful to keep some distance as people watched them leave. Once he got Clay to his car it was another matter. 

"Come on, Clay," Brian slipped an arm around Clay's torso as he got him into the passenger seat. He knelt on the asphalt as tried to maneuver the floppy drunk into his seat belt. 

Clay murmured something unintelligible. The alcohol was doing its job a little too well. Clay's hand gripped Brian's shirt and he pulled the brunette in closer.

Now Brian was aware of the alcohol in his own bloodstream. He'd only had the one beer. Over an hour ago. But he was definitely going to blame it for his giving in. 

It'd been weeks since he felt Clay's plump lips against his own. Weeks since he'd run his tongue along the bottom lip and felt Clay shudder beneath him. Ever sensitive. 

"Brian…" Clay croaked out and Brian pulled away. 

With a swallow he stood up, closed the passenger door to separate himself from temptation. Clay was already lulling to the side, curling against the door. 

That was when Brian saw Stella at the bar door. She was stood there, open mouthed and eyes narrowed. 

Brian raised an eyebrow. She started. Nodded at him. She didn't scurry away, but she did leave. Brian would take the win. 

-.-.-

Sonny rolled his shoulders back, double checked the shark deterrent on his wrist. He felt that sneaky desire bubbling up. Damn sharks were to blame and they weren't even in the water yet.

"You good?" Davis didn't look up from her clipboard as she came to stand next to him. She was the only other switch on Bravo, not counting the support staff. And possibly Mandy?

It was always hard to tell with them spooks. 

"It'll pass," Sonny didn't elaborate, just checked his wrist again. This wasn't the first time he'd felt the tingling and it certainly wouldn't be the last. 

Davis squeezed his shoulder as she moved away. 

It was always helpful, Sonny figured, that Davis would go dom when he went sub. Probably sped his flip. Not that it matter. Sub, dom, he could and would operate.

"We're approaching the drop point!" 

Sonny checked his wrist one last time and moved towards the gangway. Sharks be damned. 

-.-.-

"She might be the only person on earth who can keep your ego in check." Brian felt himself grin as Clay snorted. 

There was, realistically, nothing that could keep Clay's ego in check. Brian had six years of data to back that up. The real issue was his self-worth, but Brian wouldnt joke about that one. Not without tequila. 

"You almost done?" Clay fidgeted with the chain link, eyes flitting about as he took in the witnesses. Brian glanced down at his AAR from their time in the Shoot House earlier. It wasn't even half done. "First round on me." 

Brian closed the laptop, "I don't look gift horses in the mouth." They passed Big Country and Crow as they left. He stayed one pace behind Clay. 

And they did grab beer, just not at a bar.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I figured out my plans for Stella. Mostly. And a general plan to take us over the hurdle of Brian's not-death. 
> 
> *pats self on back* Look at that, planning ahead for a chapter fic, like a proper fic writer and everything. ;) 
> 
> Now, question time, anyone interested in a rating bump for this ship? Might do it either way, but I'm curious as to any thoughts.


	4. Episode 5

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The chapter where Brian literally lives! 
> 
> And yes, I did bump the rating up. ;)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> No, you didn't miss a chapter, I moved Episode 4 to after 5 and 6 because the original didn't have Brian in it.

Clay couldn't take it anymore. "What're you doing?" 

"Hmm?" Brian barely glanced up as he continued to shove his food into his face.

"You're eating in order right now." Clay pointed at the plate, barely keeping the laugh from his voice. "You're going meat, rice, green beans, meat, rice, green beans." 

Brian continued his shoveling, maintaining eye contact as he ate his rice. "Mm-hmm." Clay snorted. "It's efficient." Brian pointed at his plate now. "And strangely satisfying."

Clay decided, for neither the first or last time, that he was a freak. "If you have violent OCD." Why did he find this attractive? 

"Spenser." 

They both looked over at Seaver as he walked up. Laughter falling away at the man's severe face.

"You have a visitor."

When Clay scrunched his face up in confusion he didn't notice Brian freeze. 

"Brunette. She's waiting in the parking lot."

Brian unfroze before Clay looked back at him. His brow furrowed. "Stella?"

"Guess she's accepting your apology." Brian grinned at the flustered scrunch of Clay's face. He stood up. "Try not to be a dick this time!" Brian called after him.

Clay ignored his desire to flip Brian the bird. Seaver was watching and Brian's shout had brought the attention of a few of the operators. He resisted. 

It was difficult. 

"When does it become stalking?" Clay teased as he walked up to Stella in the parking lot. She turned her head to look at him, smile pulling on her lips. 

"I got your flowers," Stella started. Clay nodded. "And the book. It's actually one of my favorites."

Clay grinned, "Had to be for you to write your thesis on it."

"You looked up my thesis?" Stella's mouth dropped open as Clay shrugged. "Well, you certainly have good taste in doms. Me. The cute brunet at the bar." Clay started. 

Stella smirked, watched him straighten up. 

"Don't worry, I won't out you." 

Clay narrowed his eyes at the phrasing. 

"For either thing." Stella took a step closer, leaned against her car, "What's his name? The cute brunet."

"Brian," Clay ruffled his hair, grimaced. "How did you-"

Stella raised a brow, "I saw you two kiss - that night you were being a jerk - on my way out." 

"Great." Clay groaned, pressed a palm to his eye.

"I'm actually here to invite you both to a party I'm having," Stella blew out a breath. "I figure I owe him a little, encroaching or whatever." 

Clay raised a brow, "I didn't realize you were so traditional." Stella groaned. "I mean, this day in age and you're worried about -"

"Okay, okay," Stella held up her hands, "Sorry." Clay grinned. "But I'm serious about the invite - you're still surprising me and I like that, even if you're taken."

It took Brian less than 10 seconds to respond when Clay texted him. Clay rolled his eyes, "We'll go."

"That's not what it says, is it?" Stella's eyes narrowed on Clay's face as it went beet red. "Come on…" she hip checked him. 

Clay held up the phone for her to see.

>>>I'm down.  
>>>For the party, not the threesome. 

Stella snorted, "I don't share well either." 

"Noted." Clay rubbed his hand over his face. Stella winked at him as she got into her car. Clay took a few steps back as she pulled away. 

There was only one explanation for this day: doms are freakin' weird. 

-.-.-

Jason can tell the second they meet the RSO that this assignment is going to be frustrating. And not just because of his quick debrief and his lack of manpower.

"…157 Americans…miracle we get them all out." 

Politicians were a special breed of dickhead, somehow, diplomats were even worse. "You're not an officer?"

"Sorry to disappoint." 

He was going to have to push on this man's ego to get anything done. Which he hated. Doms are suppose to protect those underneath them, not stack them up like a freakin' staircase to climb. 

Jason traded a look with the RSO as Crowley talked about his willingness to admit his limitations. As if any 5 shooters could stop a damn civil war.

If he listened to any more of this asshat's demonstrative drivel he was going to do something he would not regret nearly so much as Blackburn would. 

Can't shame a man who has no shame. But you can shoot him in the foot. 

-.-.-

Stella really wanted to smack Evan. Being a dick to Clay and Brian because of their occupation? Couldn't say she was surprised, but god, he was laying it on thick. 

"Actually, most of our training is just about balancing beach balls on our noses."

She could kiss Brian right now! He smirked as he delivered the line, but the eyes flitting from Evan to Clay and the tension in his shoulders did not bode well for Evan.

"…American militarism, this regressive, cartoon masculinity?" 

God, why? She smiled as she looked at Clay, "Oh, yeah, I forgot to mention that I'm really against American militarism and regressive, cartoon masculinity." 

Clay nodded, managing not to look too much like a deer in headlights, "Me too." 

"Oh good. Bullet dodged." Stella looked back at Evan, smiling viciously. "You're done now I assume?" She noticed Clay exchanging a grin with Brian as Evan slunk away under her gaze.

"For the record," Brian chuckled, "I'm also against American militarism, but that regressive cartoon masculinity can be pretty funny in a bar fight."

Stella turned to face them both with an apologetic smile, "I think we can agree it has it's moments." Clay shook his head, laughing at them.

"Good lord, I do have a type…" Stella pursed her lip as Brian raised a brow. 

They exchanged a look. She grinned, "Ya know, Brian, I think this is the start of a beautiful friendship."

"Definitely," Brian chuckled at the whine that escaped Clay's throat.

"This is literally my worst nightmare."

"What about the one with the giant piranha?" 

-.-.-

"Let's just try and look friendly." Jason ordered as they approached the checkpoint. 

"I'm always friendly." 

And that right there was the primary reason Trent was driving. He was also the best offensive driver and the only other true dom on the team besides Ray. But Bravo 4 was driving cause he sure as hell didn't want Bravo 3 at the wheel. 

He did not need some dom trying to force Sonny to sub right now. Last guy that tried that ended up with a knife in his spleen and Blackburn had given him extra paperwork to fill out. 

Jason really hated paperwork. 

So he talked nice with the guard, gave him the honest truth. Nobody liked an empty, or vague, threat. 

"So what'd ya say we give peace a chance?" 

-.-.-

Clay groaned as Brian shoved him up against the door of the crappiest hotel near Stella's place. He was hard, and whinier than he liked as he ground against Brian's thigh. 

"I like her." Brian chuckled as he ran a hand up Clay's stomach. The smooth skin pebbled with gooseflesh beneath his fingers. "Stella, I mean, she's funny."

"Can we discuss your dom crush later please?!" Clay struggled against Brian's other hand as it held his wrists tight above his head. 

Brian's fingers slid back down his abs to his belt buckle, "Not in the mood for conversation?" Clay grunted as the fingers climbed again. 

"Just fuck me already!" 

Brian's grip dropped and Clay found himself falling onto the bed next. Eyes staring up at Brian's freckled face and blown irises. 

"I wish." Brian grumbled before his mouth slated over Clay's. He started tugging on Brian's belt as Brian nibbled at his bottom lip. Brian's grip on his hair tightened as his tongue slid over his now sensitive lip. 

Clay's hands moved up to Brian's shoulders, forcing the brunet onto his back. Brian yelped. Clay smirked as he settled his knees on either side of Brian's legs. 

"Fuck," Brian breathed. He ran his fingers through Clay's curly locks as Clay ran his tongue up the underside of Brian's dick. Slow. Deliberate.

Brian's other hand gripped Clay's shoulder as he lowered his lips down the shaft. Hollowing his cheeks earned him a moan from Brian and an attempted hip thrust.

With hands firmly gripping Brian's hip, Clay began his slow torture, eyes on Brian's face the whole time. The freckles were more prominent when Brian blushed. 

Why the hell did they ever go to bars when this was an option? 

-.-.-

"Bravo 2, sitrep?" 

Oh hell. 

Davis took one last look at the convoys. She knew what this situation was going to require. 

Well, she was a sub-switch, guess it was time to switch. She wasn't all that great at the submissive shit anyway.

Ray wasn't overly annoyed to see her, not with the reporter lying there unconscious and protesters loudly raging outside. 

Instead of a lecture, he handed her his damn rifle.

"Oh, we're here?" Davis had never seen live fire. No CO had ever wanted to risk putting a sub on the front lines, let alone a female one at that. 

Ray locked eyes were her, "You just gotta tell yourself, it's not going to be us." 

"Oh, it's not gonna be us." Davis nodded, straightened. She could do this. She may not be a SEAL, but she was a Navy sailor and that meant something. 

"Okay." Ray dropped to pick up the reporter and then they were walking through the embassy. She kept Ray's gun up and her eyes focused. 

With the looters, she paused. Finger hovering over the trigger until they ran. She glanced a Ray, took a breath, kept on.

Davis really wished she was more surprised when they found the convoy gone. Part of her had expected it, the same part that had gone back in after Ray.

Crowley was the most cowardly dom Davis had ever met, and she'd met a fair share of generals and admirals who kept their tails firmly between their legs. 

"What'd ya mean he left you?!" Bravo 1 reacted exactly as expected. Badly. Loudly. 

"Make sure he knows I sent you outside." Davis glared over at Ray when he spoke. "Your crazy ass decide to come back in." 

Davis rolled her eyes. But she felt her shoulders loosen a bit when Jason said they were across the street. 

It was almost easy to switch the flags with the knowledge that five highly trained SEALs were coming to get them. Almost. She'd still never been happier to see an armored car.

"Good to see ya Davis." Sonny's voice was even. He didn't break from his focus on his scope. Solidly in his dom mode. 

Davis breathed, let herself settle back into sub.

"Good to be seen." 

-.-.-

The trilling of his phone was incredibly unwanted any morning. Brian'd be down to throw it at the wall now though. 

Clay was pressed against him, back to chest, ass to groin. Even with the boxers and the briefs between them, the temptation was great. It had been literal weeks. 

Brian reached for his phone, but he looked at the screen rather than throwing it. Then he sat up and read it again.

"Clay!" Brian called out as he jumped up to pull his jeans on. He shook the blond, watched Clay reach bleerily for his own phone as he pulled his fancy black button up back on. 

With a roll of his eyes Brian crouched on the bed and hauled Clay in for a kiss. Lips forceful. Demanding. Short. He pulled back.

"Let's go, they're calling us in and we've got 59...58 minutes." Clay reacted with much more gusto now. He eyed Brian's bare chest with a grin as they walked out the door.

"Someone got lucky last night, huh?" Clay joked as they slipped into Clay's car. 

Brian chuckled, "What'd I tell ya. Shirt never fails." He broke many, many traffic laws as Clay dressed in the passenger seat beside him.

They didn't have time for showers, but they made it. On time. And it wasn't like anyone would guess reality when the guys all knew they'd gone to a party at Stella's. Sex smell be damned.

"On time is 5 minutes late." Seaver chastised. His eyes darted between them as Clay made a smartass remark. 

"Won't happen again, Master Chief." It would, it definitely, definitely would. 

-.-.-

Switch be damned. Sonny was the most protective dom on the team. Especially when it came to Davis. 

Trent traded a quick look with Brock before he drove the armored car on to the plane. Brock raised an expectant brow and then shrugged. Okay then. 

"Well, look who we got here!" Sonny was vaguely reminiscent of an angry lioness as he stomped up the ramp. "Hey Crowley, how you doing? Can I get yourself a beer?!" 

Trent jumped in quick, half-tackling the Texan to pull him back before he could barrel through the diplomat. It took him and Blackburn to pull him away.

"Ya weasel!"

Trent agreed whole-heartedly with that sentiment, but he still looked around for Davis. She appeared with a beer for each of them, ice cold. 

"You good Davis?" Sonny looked at her careful like, eyes focused. Trent joined in. She smiled, tight, and nodded. 

"I'm here ain't I?" 

Brock bumped her should as he joined them, "Right where you belong." Trent drank to that. Sonny without Davis? 

That's a hell no. 

-.-.-

Fuck. 

Line over. Brian radioed in quick and started reaching for his knife. The cutaway took longer than he wanted. By the time he got the reserve to deploy he knew he was too close to the ground.

He managed to keep the drop zone in sight. When his reserve deployed he felt the familiar tug on his shoulders. The ground came up fast, but he kept his form and used his momentum to roll forward. 

He was in the drop zone, barely, and when he stood up on shakey legs Brian heard a medic yelling for him to hold. So he disengaged his chute and sat back down. He did not crumble. 

The medic forced him on his back and started checking him other, none too gently he might add. Brian caught sight of Clay and a few of the men from the first jump circling. Seaver cut through.

"That was a hell of landing, Armstrong."

Brian grinned, "But I made the DZ." He heard a snort from the peanut gallery. 

"That ya did." Seaver shook his head, looked to the medic, "Status?"

"No broken bones." The medic started shining a light in his eyes. "We'll need to X-ray to be safe." 

"Good," Seaver chuckled, "Hate to see him wash out over a bad chute."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Allow me to introduce Stella the Observant Straight Friend. 
> 
> I considered going full OT3 on these guys, but I was too lazy and there's one scene I want to write that requires a non-romantic relationship. Another time perhaps.


	5. Episode 6

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Angst. It's mostly angst. I feel no remorse. Enjoy.

Brian grinned cheekily at Clay as the nurse - a leggy blonde with hazel brown eyes - handed him his pants. Clay shook his head and stepped aside for the nurse to pass out the door. 

"What's the verdict?" Clay scratched the back of his head as Brian slipped his clothes back on and threw the hospital gown he'd been forced into towards the chair in the corner. 

Clay's eyes lingered on the plethora of bruises blooming on Brian's skin. They were worst at his hips of course, but also his shoulders and his back. 

"No long term damage, free to return to duty with the promise that I won't have a fault chute again." Clay scowled at the joke. Brian faced him with a soft smile, eyes flicked to the door, and then he pulled Clay closer. 

He breathed in Clay's musky scent, fingers grazing over the blond's jaw line. Clay sighed into Brian's neck, curling into the embrace. Brian felt the tension in Clay's shoulders uncoil.

"I'll be fine, promise." 

Clay cleared his throat, stepped back, "Alright." Brian stuck his hands on his pockets as Clay scratched the back of his head again. Awkward trumps anxious. 

"There is something I need to talk to you about." 

Clay's eyebrows raise at the tight smile on Brian's face. The wide, open eyes on his face have Brian's stomach clenching. 

This. Will not be pleasant. 

"It's about, uh, my family." Clay's eyes scrunched up. "The one I told you about…they, uh, don't exist."

The chuckle that escaped Clay's lips was quiet, "Excuse me?" 

"I made them up," Brian swallowed hard, watched Clay's face, "My mother died when I was a kid. My dad went to prison a couple years later. Died a few weeks after getting out. I spent my teen years in a group home before I joined the Navy." 

The eyes were still wide, staring at him. The blue pools were darkened, the iris trembled. And then Clay was gone. The door slammed behind him and Brian felt the whole room shake.

Or maybe it was just him. Brian sat back on the hospital bed. His fingers fisted in the sheets. When the pretty nurse came back in he was still gasping for breath. 

-.-.-

Ray is welcomed into his home by the sweet scent of pumpkin. He grinned. The flavor preference had emerged during Naima's pregnancy and now appeared to have carried forward.

"Is that pumpkin soup?" Ray called out as he hung his jacket up. Jameelah came running. 

"Better!" He picked his little girl up, swinging her around in a circle as she giggled. When he set her down she tugged him towards the kitchen, "Butterscotch and pumpkin pancakes." 

Okay. It was good Jason had skipped out because Ray was not sharing his pancakes. 

Naima smiled at him as he entered the kitchen. He kissed her on the cheek. RJ was sound asleep in a pouch on her front, his face pressed to her bare clavicle. 

"So…" Naima looked over his shoulder with a raised brow, "How was the Jason-Beau showdown?"

Ray scratched his forehead, smiling, "About how you'd expect. There was a little fisty cuffs, but nothing major."

"Of course," Naima prided herself on not snorting. She did smile though. "And where has Bravo 1 gone to lick his wounds?" 

"He did not say," Ray moved to the cabinets, grabbed some plates. Jameelah started pulling out the cutlery, bound and determined to set the table by herself. 

Ray let her, moved back to Naima.

"How's your morning been?" 

As if to demonstrate, RJ began to squirm and cry. 

"About how you'd expect."

-.-.-

Brian went looking for Clay as soon as he was released from the infirmary. Because no one has ever accused him of having self-preservation skills. 

Base was a lost cause. Brian knew that, but still he checked the barracks. He got a few shoulder slaps from the rest of Green Team for his trouble. They hadn't seen Clay since he'd left to check on him.

"He said he'd fill us in when he got back." Crow raised an eyebrow at him from his bunk. "You got here first."

"Yeah, well, I kind of pissed him off." Brian shrugged, then flinched cause that hurt like a B. It was a struggle to keep the smile he was faking on his face.

Big Country snorted, "With the chute?" Some of the other guys looked annoyed. Brian swallowed around the lump forming in his throat.

"Nah," Brian chuckled, tried to smile again, "I got all confessional on him."

The room tensed then. Not everyone in Green Team was friendly with Clay, but they all knew Brian was the only one Clay'd've taken a bullet for those first few weeks. 

"What'd the fuck you do?"

Brian swallowed, hard, "I lied." All that got him was scrunched eyebrows. "I need to find him before he does something stupid." 

He tried Stella next. No luck, but she was pissed at him so he knew Clay'd talked to her. 

"Seriously, Brian, we've been friends a day, I'm already playing marriage counselor?" 

Brian chuckled, a little watery as he looked down at her floor, "No counselor required, I know I'm in the wrong." Stella hugged him them, short and soft. Her hands barely grazed the skin of his neck.

"He said he needed to think." Stella shrugged. "You know better then me where he'd go."

And that was why Brian found him at the beach. Clay was sitting in the sand, arms wrapped around his knees and head down. It was cold out, the beach was deserted. Sunset had come and gone. 

The knot in Brian's stomach tightened to the point of nausea. He kept his mouth shut as he lowered himself on to the coarse surface. 

"Is it okay if I touch you?" Brian asked in a low voice. Clay's head moved, a quick shake, a nod. Brian raised his hand to Clay's back. He ran his fingers up and down, slow. 

When Clay turned his head, startling blue eyes bore into his soul. "Why did you lie to me?" Clay's voice cracked and Brian was positive it was the worst sound he'd ever heard. 

Brian swallowed hard. He kept his eyes on Clay's. "I don't know," his voice shook and then he swore. 

"Why didn't you tell me sooner?" 

"It was easier," Brian looked down, at the sand. "They're dead. There was no one to tell the truth but me and…" 

Clay looked away from him now, out at the expanse of grey water. "My crappy parents are still here to cause me grief, yours aren't. I get that." 

"That makes one of us," Brian's hand moved up to Clay's neck. His fingers slid softly over the skin. He watched the gooseflesh pebble, "I put you down on my CACO form." 

Clay's head flicked back to him.

"When I was lying on the ground I thought of that, of you finding out I'd been lying to you for six years when you had to notify my next of kin." Brian breathed out a shaky breath. "I put you on there to make sure you always got notified, but…"

"Who's the next of kin?" Clay looked back to the water and Brian resumed running his fingers over Clay's skin, through the short hair of Clay's thin beard. 

"A waitress at this diner my mom would leave me at. Denise." Brian smiled as he thought of his booth. "I felt safe. I decided to join the Navy sitting there with her. I was, hell, maybe 10." 

Clay snorted, "Late bloomer." Brian laughed. Clay'd probably come out of the womb wanting to be a SEAL. He shifted closer and the knot in Brian's stomach relaxed slightly.

Brian gulped down air with a shaky breath, "Can I-"

"Yes." Clay's hand moved to his thigh and Brian crumbled there. He wrapped himself around Clay, pressed his face into Clay's collar. 

Brian hadn't expected to be the one crying. He sobbed soundlessly. Clay's hand stayed on his thigh. 

"I'm still pissed," Clay spoke quietly, "But I still love you." 

-.-.-

Beau and Jason managed to corral their teams to a bar that didn't include women dancing on tables at 2 in the afternoon. The food was better for one. 

"And Evans definitely doesn't need help spending his money." Beau shook his head, eyes on Evans and Sonny racking up a game of pool on the other side of the bar.

"Trent'll be glad to take it," Ray chuckled, signaled the bartender for a round of beers.

Beau took his with a grateful nod, "So I hear Bravo ran an op with the Spenser kid a while back. He any good?" 

"Why?" Jason took a gulp of his beer, "You looking at him for Charlie?" Beau smirked. "He's good. Not as good as he thinks, but good."

"Bravo looking at him too then?" Beau was smart enough to direct the question to Ray. Or he was needling at Jason.

Ray shrugged, "Half of DEVGRU's got eyes on the kid."

"What about Armstrong? He had quick reflexes on that line-over." Beau looked at Jason now, watched the tick in the other man's jaw. "You know anything about him I might want?" 

Jason looked at Ray, who just as quickly looked across the room to the men playing pool. Beau, of course, noticed. 

"That's a yes I ever seen one." 

"They're lovers." All three of them men turned to look at Seaver at the end of the bar, nursing something golden brown. "Pretty damn good at hiding it too, but I knew a few men during DADT well enough to recognize the signs."

Beau whistled, eyed Jason with a grin, "Guess that means Alpha and Bravo can't do the ol' one and two." Jason grunted. "Means I got a shot."

"They've deployed together before," Ray shrugged, looked at Seaver for confirmation, "Obviously hasn't been an issue."

"Separate teams the whole way." Seaver shook his head, "They were in the same class in BUD/S, now Green Team. Probably why they're getting sloppy." 

Jason sat up straighter, "Sloppy?"

"Mhmm," Seaver sipped at his drink, "Spenser went to the hospital after the jump, then Armstrong shows up at the barracks looking for him. Jumpy apparently. And the nurse let slip that he had an anxiety attack after Spenser left him." 

"Trouble in paradise." Ray shook his head. "That's why fraternization is against the rules."

Jason looked at Beau, eyebrow raised. Beau grinned, "Technically, if they're not in the same chain of command, it's not fraternization." 

"And, uh, Charlie doesn't doesn't answer to Blackburn?" 

"No, we do not." Beau flagged down the bartender, "4 shots." He looked up at Jason, arms resting on the bar, "So, how we deciding who gets who?"

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> For Reference:
> 
> Jason, Ray, Trent, Brian, Beau - doms  
> Brock & Sonny - dom switches  
> Davis - sub switch  
> Clay - sub
> 
> No one else has been specified as of yet (and technically I didn't specify Beau, but yeah, obvious). I'll try to post an updated reference every few chapters.


	6. Episode 4

Brock didn't like this guy. There was a smarminess to him. Typical CIA, but he was use to Mandy now and going back was not on his bucket list. 

"1994, Travnik - the massacre I told you about. Khandihar, two weeks ago. Take your pick."

Ah. Emotional manipulation. Brock officially hated this guy. He looked over the rest of Bravo. No one else seemed to like him either. 

Sonny's jaw was tensed, like he was keeping a comment to himself. Trent's eyes had glossed over at least ten minutes ago. Jason's eyes were scrunched up in that way that meant suspicion. And Ray, was actively shaking his head. 

Probably a good thing he hadn't brought Cerb today. This much distrust? He'd be snapping at fingers. 

Brock sat forward in his seat, fidgeted a bit as Ray and Jason led them through possible hit points. 

"I'm sorry, we're suppose to be afraid of the Estonian military?" Sonny laughed as he leaned back in his chair. 

This mission was getting off to a great start, really. 

-.-.-

Stella waited until after they finished eating to start interrogating him. She pushed her plate away and scooted back in her seat before speaking. "So, how's it going with Brian?" 

"Fine." Clay shrugged, took a sip of the beer the waitress had given him a funny look for ordering at 7 in the morning.

"Nice to know the stoic machoism isn't exclusive to doms." 

Clay glared over at Stella's smile, "New topic please." The smile morphed into one of near glee and Clay immediately regretted the request. 

"Well then, it's come to my attention that there's a guy with your same last name giving a reading tomorrow in Norfolk from his, uh, his book about his legendary career as a Navy SEAL." 

Clay's jaw ticked and Stella smirked.

"Can I just assume that it's not a coincidence?" 

"Now who's Dog the Bounty Hunter?" Clay leaned back in his chair, ran his hand over his face to hide how tense his smile was. 

Stella leaned forward on the table, "You said that your father was in the Navy." 

"Yeah, he was," Clay shrugged. Stella arched an eyebrow.

"In SEAL Team Six." 

"It's actually not called that anymore."

Stella scoffed, "Whatever it's called, your dad is like, a legend in the same ridiculously competitive unit that you're trying to get into."

Clay was officially regretting ever mentioning his last name. His dad was probably on the first page of Google results. 

"Again, training and selection status aren't something we're suppose to divulge…" and technically he'd never confirmed it. He just hadn't denied Stella's assumption. "…so if you could, just, stop talking about it." The silencing hand gesture had no effect.

Stella crossed her arms, leaned back in her chair, "You know I minored in psych as an undergrad?" 

"Yeah, you mentioned it." Several times actually. Right before psycho-analyzing him. Or his relationship with Brian. "Is this the part where you tell me that what I'm really training for is to kill my father and replace him in my mother's affections?" 

Stella smirked again. She did that a lot when he said anything vaguely hinting at his intellectual background. 

Clay was never telling her about his childhood. Never. 

"So, you gonna go?" 

He gave her credit for powering through each and every one of his deflections. 

"To the reading?" Clay quirked an eyebrow, surprised slightly at this turn. Stella nodded. "I wasn't planning on it."

"How come?" Stella probed, smirk settled back into a neutral smile. Clay officially felt like he was in therapy. 

"Because I already know what happens in the book." 

Stella's arms settled on the armrests of her chair, "Does Brian?" Clay narrowed his eyes. 

"He's read it."

Stella's eyebrow perked up, "Read it? He hasn't met him yet?" Clay looked away. "Six years, he hasn't met your dad who lives in Boston?"

"He lives in Boston?" Clay asked, shrugged, "I had no idea." 

"I actually believe that." Stella shook her head. "Come on, we'll go together. I want to meet the famous dad." 

Clay quirked an eyebrow, "You? Weren't we just talking about Brian?" Stella smirked. Clay groaned.

"And miss the opportunity to peek into your psyche?" 

-.-.-

Brock hated crowds. Hated. 

They were one of the few things that triggered his switch. Lucky for him, Bravo didn't do crowds often. In fact, they dealt with them so rarely that Sonny often joked that he didn't really switch. 

Brock glanced around, kept his head on the swivel as they scoped the target. He moved further into the street, closer into crowds of the city. 

Fuck. He always forgot how itchy he got during his switch. 

Sonny'd taken the busier street. Brock appreciated that. He still had to walk through the damn market though. 

"All call, break. I repeat, break contact."

Brock happily shifted away from the crowds, moved to the van. He took a breath as he slid into his seat. Sonny slid in next to him.

"You switch?" Sonny whispered as he clapped him on the shoulder. Brock leaned into the touch, but shook his head. 

Boss started giving them the lowdown. He settled. 

-.-.-

"Brian?" Stella answered her cell with faux surprise.

"You got Clay to take you to the reading?!" Brian sounded more shocked than annoyed so she didn't stop applying her lipstick. 

Stella popped her lips, smiled at the mirror to check. "It wasn't my original plan, but I improvised." Brian chuckled. "I was kinda trying to get him to take you actually."

"Never gonna happen," Brian scoffed, "I'm pretty positive the idea of Clay liking men has never entered Ash's mind."

Stella raised a brow, "Clay hasn't told him about you?"

"At all." Brian deadpanned, "Clay's pretty textbook. And Ash still has friends in the service."

Stella rolled her eyes, packed up her mini-bag to throw in her purse. "You're both a walking case study." She didn't touch the obvious. "Do you ~want~ to meet him?"

Brian didn't respond immediately, "I know enough to know I shouldn't." Stella waited. 

"Why not?" Stella finally asked. Brian just chuckled. 

"I'll let you form your own opinion." 

-.-.-

"I appreciate the call, but I was hoping you were only here on holiday."

Jason looked at Jakub, watched the man take a seat. "What gave it away, the umbrella in my drink?" Jakub laughed. 

It was an easy camaraderie, just as it had been years before. 

"You use to hunt these guys." Jason couldn't keep the comment to himself. The disbelief! He never would have thought Jakub Kowal would protect an ethnic cleanser. 

"That was a long time ago, even before you and I met." 

Jason scoffed. That was a lame excuse. "Now you're working for them." Even as Jakub defended his choice Jason saw the tension pulling at his eyes. 

Even Kowal couldn't didn't like who he had become. 

"Why are they always like us, huh?" Jakub chuckled, shook his head, "Always doms, huh?" Jason nodded along. He'd wondered the same thing on a few occasions.

Jason paused, glass in the air, "There was that one guy."

"Mm," Jakub chewed his lip, "Still a switch."

"My wife likes to tell me subs are more empathetic," Jason offered, took a sip, "Pretty sure that's bullshit."

Jakub gulped down a swig of beer, "They're never close enough to power. Cut down, restricted." Jason's stomach turned at the implications.

"Not wrong." Jason sighed.

"I won't give you Baljic." 

Jason pushed his hands into the counter, "You're really gonna go down with the ship for this guy? For him?" 

"It's a question for when the ship is going down." Jakub downed the last of his beer. "Thanks for the drink."

-.-.-

Brian wasn't necessarily proud of following Ash Spenser to a bar. But he'd seen Clay after the reading, strolling into the barracks looking vaguely like a lost puppy. He'd looked so pathetic no one even bothered to give him shit for seeing his father.

>>> He's a charmer, I'll give him that.

Stella's short text had not inspired any new feelings of warmth towards the older Spenser. 

Ash Spenser was laughing it up with Seaver and a few of the Old Guard. Brian didn't know most of them - different squadrons, different teams. All of them a much higher rank.

Seaver and Malcolm were the only two who trained Green Team. That's who concerned him. 

Seaver and Ash looked real buddy-buddy from what he could see. They sat beside each other at their table. Brian watched them through the mirror on the back of the bar - which, hey, very useful, if a tad cliche. Seaver even cracked a smile. 

A charmer indeed. 

Clay made more sense with the new intel - Ash exuded a natural dom charisma, and was a giant ass. He'd flirted with every woman who came within eye contact and had been aiming sharp jabs at Malcolm. 

It reminded Brian of Clay, pre-bottom five. All the stereotypical macho dom shit. 

Fuck. Malcolm looked pissed.

Did the jerk not realize that Malcolm had unrestricted control over his son's training regiment? 

Brian nursed his beer and swallowed back his anger with a few french fries. If he stayed much longer he might actually lose his temper. 

Not that Ash didn't deserve a good fist to the face.

Ping!

>>>Come get me.

The message was from Clay. Brian barely remembered to keep himself calm as he exited the bar. He's pretty positive none of the drunk operators noticed him slip out any better than they noticed him slip in. 

It took him twenty minutes to locate Clay, standing in the parking lot of some random bar. It's nowhere near base. Or Stella's. He was staring up, eyes glazed over and shoulders hunched. 

"Are you okay?" Brian's voice brought Clay's attention down. He blinked. Twice. And then Brian was shoved up against his passenger door with Clay's tongue shoved into his mouth. 

Neither of which was bad. Nor was Clay's hand stroking the front of his jeans. 

Brian felt a little like putty as Clay maneuvered them back into Brian's car. He kept his arms looped around Brian's neck, his hips rotating. 

It was no small feat, falling into the backseat without clipping something on the way down. Clay gave him no respite. 

Brian was heady with Clay on top of him. The blond was grinding down on his lap, kissing him like if he stopped he wouldn't be able to breath. Brian's lungs were on fire. His whole body felt overhot. Clay's tongue slid over his skin, his teeth grazing his jawline. 

It reminded him of BUD/S. Of getting drunk with Clay after graduation and drying-humping each other in some dirty bathroom stall after weeks of blue-balling it. He hadn't exactly been thinking straight that night. 

A half-beat later he connected the dots. 

"Clay!" 

The sudden stop gave Brian a chance to breath, a chance to look at Clay's blown and redshot eyes. A chance to notice Clay was shaking.

He'd never been overly-protective of Clay. It would have made it too obvious Clay was a sub. But with him shaking in his lap, desperate for touch… 

"What's wrong?" 

Clay shook his head, "I ca-I can't…" 

Brian cupped his face, ran a thumb over Clay's cheek, "Can't what?" Clay looked everywhere but at him. His hands flew up into his hair. 

"Deal." Clay's head dropped down. "With him."

Brian shook his head, wished vaguely that he'd punched Ash Spenser at that bar. "Then don't." 

"What?" Clay's eyes went wide, or wider. 

Brian pushed down his desire to wrap Clay in his arms. "You know how I dealt with my dad's crappiness?" 

Clay scoffed, "Besides lying about it." Brian rolled his eyes. 

"I lied about it after he was dead, he wasn't always dead." Clay fidgeted in his lap and Brian was reminded of those weeks in BUD/S again. "I just gave up on it. On him. I said my goodbyes and quit trying to fix it." 

"Give up?" Clay looked at him now, eyes trembling, "I've never seen you give up. On anything." 

Brian shrugged, "Never needed to." Clay smiled. And then he was kissing him again, tongue flicking over the roof of Brian's mouth. Groaning, Brian settled his hands on Clay's hips. 

Clay's hands were on his stomach, his mouth moving purposefully over his. The delicate touch, Clay's tongue sliding against his, and the friction as Clay began to move his hips again. 

He lasted longer than he had after BUD/S.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> We needed more Brock content. ;)


	7. Episode 7

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which Brian deals with torture, both his and Clay's.

Brian was positive Clay was pissed at him. Which, very understandable. Totally. Brian is fine with that. Fine. 

Except that Clay's not mentioned it. At all. 

Clay - lord of grudges and king of the clapback had brought up Brian's lying exactly once since the beach. Once. And it was while drunk, so it probably shouldn't count.

They'd talked since then, sure, about infil strategies and proper gun maintenance. There was joking. There was laughter. They'd spent two nights in a hotel this past month. 

But Clay was entirely too quiet. And his eyes were like staring into a brick wall. It reminded Brian of the first year after BUD/S when the definition of their relationship was up in the air and Clay wouldn't admit to being a sub. 

Brian had spent that whole year utterly frustrated. God, he really hoped it wouldn't take another year to gain Clay's trust back. 

"You look thoughtful." Stella materialized beside him with a beer in each hand. He accepted his with a quirk of his lips. 

It was difficult to smile when Clay was hustling Crow at pool three feet in front of him. "Natural response to thinking I'm afraid." He took a long drag of his beer. 

"You and Clay still…" Stella squinted for a moment, "Fighting isn't the word. Awkward?" Brian snorted, nodded. Awkward was a good word for it. 

Clay glanced over his shoulder at them, eyebrow quirked, as Crow took his shot. Crow missed though and Clay was once more distracted. 

"You two talk about it yet?" 

Brian leveled a pointed look at Stella. "I thought you didn't want to play marriage counselor?" 

"What can I say? I'm invested in this ship." Stella shrugged.

-.-.-

"I didn't ask for your protection and I don't want it." 

Jason swallowed back a response. Those were not words he'd been prepared to hear. Alana scoffed. He leaned forward, looked her in the eye,"I don't like bringing that stuff home and talking about."

"But you do," Alana shook her head, "You think about it, don't you." Jason leaned back, kept his gaze focused forward. "If you're thinking about, I should be thinking about it to." 

Jason pursed his lips, Alana's hand reached forward to take his.

"In sickness and in health, remember?" Alana leaned back when he didn't respond. "If that still applies." Jason's jaw clenched. 

A slap would have hurt less. Alana had decided they needed to split. Alana decided if they had sex, when they talked, what he got a say in. 

"You didn't ask for my protection, and I didn't ask for you to take care of me." 

Jason got up and walked away. He refused to look back as he exited the realtors' office. Whether Alana was upset or not by his words, it would have hurt. Blade twisting in his gut kind of hurt.

-.-.-

"Welcome to Advance SERE." Seaver's voice permeated the cotton in his ears as the hood came up. Brian chanced a glance around him. Clay was to his right, Crow to his left. 

Stripped and thrown in cages. How very Rambo of them... They'd left them underpants at least, probably more for the instructors' benefit than theirs. But, hey, win!

"Before I turn you over to head instructor, Malcolm…" Shit. 

That was a definite strike for the lose column. 

Brian chanced a glance at Clay, who was listening attentively to Seaver speak. Shit. Eye contact, bad.

Seaver kicked Clay's cage. Brian winced as Clay shrunk back a tad. "Play your role." Seaver stalked off and Clay was right back in his original position, eyes taking in and assessing his surroundings. 

Rock music began to blare. The screechy, death metal sort. And was that a baby screaming?

Brian rolled his shoulders, attempting to dislodge the tension that was officially tightening all along his spine. He glanced at Clay again. He'd sat back in his cage and closed his eyes. The tension lessened just slightly. 

But a rock settled in his gut. Shit. 

The last time he'd done SERE it had been without Clay, and the first time back in BUD/S their relationship had been wholly fantasy on his part. 

SERE with his sub. Definitely another tick in the lose column. 

-.-.-.-

"Babe," Ray raised a brow at Naima, "You're doing that thing with your voice." There was definitely a reason she'd cancelled the preseason package. 

"What thing with my voice?" Naima stood up to walk with RJ. 

Ray shook his head. Definitely a reason. "Is something going on?" 

"No." Naima bounced the baby. "Just looking for little ways to cut back, that's all." She wasn't looking at him. Kept her back turned.

Ray leaned forward, brows scrunched, "Why? Are we having problems?" She still refused to look at him as she explained. Lamely, about one time expenses. "How bad is it?" 

"We're fine. Nobody's coming to take away the house." Ray's spine straightened. Naima kept circling the room with RJ in her arms. Shoulders tense, eyes downcast. 

Ray cracked a joke, tried to ease that tension a bit. It didn't. Suddenly she was rambling about deployment money and maternity leave and Ray had the sinking feeling that he'd failed her somewhere. 

"…if you're having trouble staying on top of things -"

"I'm not having trouble." Naima's eyes flicked up, spine steeled. Shit. Ray knew he'd stepped on a pressure plate. Naima plowed right over him. 

"You want to keep your preseason package, fine! We're not going to be out on the streets." 

Ray saw his mistake then. He'd implied she couldn't care for them properly. She was on the defense. He dropped his shoulders, moved to calm her. 

And then his phone beeped. Ray took a breath as he checked the message. Mission. Damn. He looked up at Naima. 

Her shoulders dropped too. Her defensive posture dropped with them. She rocked in place with RJ. 

"It's fine. Wife should know better than to separate a man from his preseason package." Naima smiled, tight, but genuine. 

Ray kissed her, "We'll talk when I get home okay?" He looked her in the eye, knew she could feel his reluctance to leave her. Then he kissed the top of RJ's head and moved to grab his go-bag. 

He stopped in Jameelah's room to kiss her, and three of her dolls, before he left. She frowned as he stood up, "I'll take care of Mommy and RJ while you're gone, promise." 

"I appreciate that," Ray smiled at his daughter, squeezed her arm. "I know Mommy looking after you two makes me feel better, but knowing you got her back?" Ray smiled at her, kissed her forehead one more time, "I got no worries now."

Jameelah's smile in return lit up his whole world. 

-.-.-

Brian had never truly appreciated how messed up his psyche was until he started looking forward to his next turn in the hot seat. Beatings, waterboarding, a little electroshock. All preferable to listening to the sound of a man's fists landing on Clay's body. Or, his sputtering post-water play.

He kept his fingernails dug into his leg the whole time Clay snarked back at Malcolm during his interrogation. He still winced a few times. 36 minutes of accoustic torture. 

Brian had also never experienced such a strong desire to flay a man. Everytime Malcolm asked Clay a question Brian bit the inside of his cheek. 

The rock music was officially echoing in his head, his head ached to the rhythm of Clay's beating. The two kept merging in his head. Even when the instructors threw Clay back into his cage, Brian could hear it. 

It was imperative he not look at Clay. The instructors were watching them. They prowled the cages in shifts. Any weakness, any attention - they'd pull you from the cage. 

Brian was not going to give Malcolm further reason to hurt Clay. He was already interrogating him longer than the rest of the class - 8 minutes and 27 seconds on average, for a total of 31 minutes and 53 seconds extra so far. 

A press of skin against his arm slowed the beating bass in Brian's head. Clay was leaning against the side of his cage, resting. His back pressed against Brian's forearm. A chill ran up his arm, cooled his temper and his body all at once. 

The instructors pulled him from the cage with a yank on his foot. Brian swallowed back a growl as his back hit the floor. They dragged him in to see Malcolm, who stood over him with a blank and focused expression.

"How did you come to be within the borders of my country?" 

-.-.-

"I can beat you, Pop!" Clay called out, treading water. "I'll turn in to a dolphin!" The choppy waves pushed and pulled at his small body as Ash Spenser swam around him.

"If you turn into a dolphin, I'll turn into a puffer fish!" Ash puffed out his cheeks and Clay laughed, voice high. 

"Dolphins are faster than puffer fish," clay told him with a grin. 

Ash chuckled, "Oh really? Let's just see about that!" Ash dived under and then Clay felt the arms dragging him down. His father's face - twisted and unsmiling - flashed in front of him as water filled his lungs.

"That is how it feels to drown, Prisoner 1-4." Clay coughed out water onto the concretefloor. He was back in the interrogation room with Malcolm. He'd never left. "Now are you ready to have a conversation."

Clay sat back, took a few deep breaths, "Actually I'm still kind of thirsty." The chair tilted back again, the rag and the water returned. 

The ocean rushed back into his mind. This time he was treading water alone. Older, but younger. He turned every direction - no shore, no swimmers. 

He was alone. Clay splashed at the water, tried to look under him, catch a glimpse of something - someone - hiding beneath the dark mirror of the sea. 

"Clay~" 

The voice was faint, an echo. Clay kicked and turned, searching. Nothing. No one.

"Clay~" 

It was Brian. The whisp, the thick and heavy emphasis he put on the second half of his name. 

Clay didn't want to know if he was right, or just wishing. 

"Brian?" Clay gasped out, the water was rising in his mouth. Panic was rising in his lungs. An arm circled around him. He kicked and he splashed. 

The arm raised him up, air came crashing back. And then he was coughing up water on the concrete again.

"Still thirsty, Prionser 1-4?" 

Clay look up at Malcolm. His chin jotted out, "Parched."

-.-.-

Liberation was…anticlimactic…in Brian's opinion. Being pulled from a barrel of water was certainly appreciated, but given that it was swiftly followed by a swarm of corpsman shoving them onto gurneys... Rambo's had been better.

The moonlight did give Bravo a nice ethereal glow. Brian would admit to that. Very cinematic. 

He didn't catch sight of Clay till after his discharge. He was lying on a hospital bed, staring up at the ceiling with a frown firmly set into his face. 

"Did they admit you?" Brian raised a brow at the hospital gown. Clay's eyes whipped down to see him. 

"For observation," Clay scowled, "Apparently my body temp hasn't returned to normal yet." Brian nodded, unsurprised. Clay ran cool, like most subs. 

Clay had shivered in the August heat of Afghanistan once and their teams had started placing bets on when Clay would vomit. Assumptions of the flu were always helpful to the cause. 

"They won't even feed me till they're certain I'm not sick." Clay's face scrunched up into a true testament to brattiness. 

Brian caved like a sinkhole, "Want me to sneak you a burger?" 

"Please!" Clay's bottom lip jotted out in an attempt at a begging before his lips quirked up. The ringing of Clay's laughter brought a flutter to his chest. 

He closed the blinds to hide them from view before he stepped closer. Clay's eyes went wide as Brian ran a hand over his face. His fingers dug into Clay's hair until his palm rested on the back of Clay's head.

"Brian?" Clay's voice hiccupped as Brian's thumb moved up and down Clay's cheek. He watched Clay's throat bob with a few deep breaths before he pulled away. 

Brian ran his hand through his hair, looked at the wall, "Just, uh, just needed to-" He cleared his throat. 

"Go get me my burger." Clay grinned at him and Brian nodded, chest tight as he walked away. 

-.-.-

Jason pulled into the parking lot of his favorite burger joint. He got out of his truck, debating his choices and considering Alana at her office. 

"Master Chief Hayes." The voice jumped out at him from the left. Jason looked. 

"Armstrong." The freckled brunet was leaning back against a car - grey with blue flames - that Jason was fairly positive didn't belong to him. The man had his hands in his pocket and his head thrown back. 

Not even looking at Jason. "We need to talk." 

"Does the conversation include the reason why you're waiting for me…here?" Jason raised a brow as he walked towards the younger man. 

"Nope," Armstrong shrugged, pushed off from the car. "It does involve you making up for that shitty interogation." 

Jason chuckled, rubbed his hand over his chin, "Wasn't an interrogation." Armstrong shrugged again.

"Not a good one."

The kid would make an excellent spook. "I don't like you."

"Good," Brian clapped him on the shoulder and then entered the burger joint. Jason sighed, looked up at the sky and wondered when he'd started feeling old, and then followed Armstrong inside. 

It ought to be interesting, at minimum. 

-.-.- 

"Bri?" Clay murmured when Brian ran his hand through his hair. Brian smiled at the grogginess, shushed Clay as he set the bag of food on the side table next to the bed. 

Brian's fingers stung as his warmth met Clay's chilled skin. He skimmed his palm down Clay's face, watched the blond arch into his touch and turn in his sleep. He took a seat on the edge of the bed. His other hand slipped beneath the blankets. 

"You being me my burger?" Clay gasped at the sudden warmth on his leg. Brian shushed him again. 

"It'll keep," Brian rubbed his hand up and down Clay's leg. Clay turned on his side, shifted in the bed. His eyes opened. 

Crystal blue orbs stared up over Clay's shoulder at Brian, pulling him down. Pulling him in. He let them. Par for the course. 

They barely fit in the narrow hospital bed together, even on their sides. Clay pressed back against him, let himself be curled into Brian's hold. Brian let Clay pull his left arm beneath his head. It gave him a decent angle for gliding fingers over Clay's neck.

Brian breathed into Clay's hair. Clay's scent waifed up into his nostrils as his heat pushed out. He hadn't felt this calm in weeks. 

His other hand slipped beneath the hospital gown, palm sliding over Clay's side, his leg, his stomach, anywhere Brian could reach. Clay was already a little warmer, dropping a little further into sleep. 

The law of thermodynamics was working its magic on Clay. It was also settling all the nerves that touch deprivation had frayed in Brian.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This thing sat half finished for two weeks while I debated just how far from canon I wanted to diverge. The answer still alludes me, but I do have a lot of ideas for what Clay and Brian were like during and immediately after BUD/S. 🤷♀️ 
> 
> The next chapter is currently sitting about a third of the way done and is completely ignoring the format I've established so far. So basically, Jason is not the only one frustrated with Brian!


	8. Episode 8

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Some plot development, some implied ships, and some light smut. Filler episodes get filler chapters.

"Looks like our boy made it," Ray smirked as he watched Jason pull Clay Spenser's photo off the draft wall. Jason's face went flat as he turned to meet Ray's eyes. 

Ray watched his team leader's face narrow in annoyance. As if he'd actually wanted Spenser to fail out. Jason had admitted, after many many beers and several guilting questions, that Clay Spenser reminded him of himself…and Mikey. Which, now that RJ was starting to watch him with eyes full of wonder, Ray understand. 

Clay Spenser was every frogman's dream, and worst nightmare - he was a frogman's son. A man following in his father's footsteps. 

But Ray sure as hell didn't want Charlie team taking the kid - he was too good to pass up. And Sonny would shoot Armstrong within a week.

"We graduated a class of real pipe-hitters this time. One of 'em even broke a couple of Jason's obstacle course records." 

The room filled with jeers and cheers. Ray couldn't help but grin at Jason's expense. "Didn't break mine!" 

"Alright, alright, we'll start with the cream." Adam backed away from the board, pointed to the top. "We got a two-way tie up at the top - Armstrong and Spenser - with Sarkisian and McAdams just shy." 

The room all looked to Jason. Beau especially looked interested. Jason just leaned back, crossed his legs on the table. 

"Gotta do my homework first." Jason nodded towards Adam. "Run 'em down for us."

-.-.-

Clay was starting to think meeting Stella before he drank coffee was a bad idea. Her eyes were glinting like a steel dagger. 

"You two are moving in together?" Stella took a bite of her eggs. Clay groaned. He'd said we when talking about the realtor showings.

"There is talk." Clay admitted, he shrugged his shoulders.

Stella raised a brow, "Oh, so you're talking?" Clay shook his head, tried to hide his grin. They weren't not talking, but Clay was not telling Stella about that. Psych minor be damned. 

"I'd prefer we'd be doing something else, personally." Clay looked back at his food, ignored Stella's shift in posture across the table.

Hook.

"Been blue balling it?" Stella's tongue pressed against one of her canines as she grinned at him. It was her tell. 

Clay kept his mouth firmly shut. Took another bite of his food, drank a little coffee.

Line.

"Oh, come one! You gotta give me something? I know you two went off after my party, no way you didn't take advantage of the cover my invitation provided." Stella was now threatening him with a fork and her eyes were a little bit pleading.

"Might have." Clay shrugged, leaned back in his chair. Stella leaned forward 

Sinker.

"Brian's got a thing about not compromising career opportunities." Clay said, and then he watched Stella's mind whirl. Her eyes flashed and her cheeks reddened.

"So…you two haven't been…" Stella cleared her throat, scratched the spot behind her ear. 

Clay was officially amused. "Just hand and mouth." Stella got even redder as her mouth dropped open. He got almost a full minute of silence. 

"For how long?" She leaned forward on the table, forehead creased. Clay fidgeted. His mind was screaming at him to abort mission.

It was too late. 

"Months." 

Stella's eyebrows shot up. "Oh. No. You have got to fix that." 

And suddenly Stella was Dr. Ruth instead of Dr. Phil. He needed more coffee to deal with this development. Or vodka.

-.-.-

"So he followed you to the burger joint?" Ray's eyes went wide, hands paused mid-wash with a plate in the sink. 

Jason shook his head, "He was waiting for me." He wiped the last of the water off his plate and put it into the cabinet, "It's a burger joint over by my house - inside joke between Alana and I. I haven't been since I moved out." 

"That's creepy." Ray shook his head as he looked back down to his washing. "Like, Sonny in church creepy." 

"That ain't even the weirdest part." Jason chuckled. He took the last plate from Ray and began to towel it dry. "He asked me for a favor." 

"A favor?" Ray raised a brow, "Armstrong? The guy who I am now fully confident has a plan drawn up to assassinate you?"

Jason shrugged. "Yup." 

Ray shook his head, gestured wide, "What's the favor?!" 

"Make sure he and Clay end up on different teams." 

Ray leaned back on his counter, hands gripping the linoleum, "Not what I was expecting." He raised a brow, "You tell him you and Beau already got that figured."

"Nope." Jason smirked, he put the last plate in the cupboard.

-.-.-

"So, what, Garner cost Danny his dream job?" Jason raised a brow at Davis. 

Davis twitched. Jason saw it. "I just thought I should tell you." 

"Sonny'll be fine. He knows where his priorities lie." Jason watched her jaw clench and unclench. "What else am I missing?" 

Davis sighed, "Danny dom-ed for Sonny when we were on Team 4." Jason stilled. "It wasn't anything serious, but Sonny was adjusting. He leaned on Danny. Danny leaned back."

"That…" Jason swallowed back his initial thought. "I'll keep an eye on him Davis." 

"Sonny doesn't-" Davis ran a hand over her face. "This isn't gonna mess with Sonny's career, me telling you this?" 

Jason took a breath, "I ain't telling anybody, so no." Davis let out a breath. He was annoyed to find he wasn't insulted by the question or the response.

A month or two ago, someone asked him if there was any sort of prejudice against subs in the SEALs and he'd have laughed. Now…

Armstrong had made it abundantly clear through his behavior that there was. No dom would go through the trouble Armstrong did to keep Clay's secret otherwise. 

And now there was Sonny. Or maybe he was finally noticing. 

Jason rubbed at his head. He opened his eyes to look at Davis, "You got any tylenol?" She rolled her eyes and immediately threw a bottle at his head. 

-.-.-

"Well, we're officially moved in. Now what?" Brian stood in the middle of their kitchen, arms wide in question. Derek and his wife had left twenty minutes ago. Stella, five. 

They were now alone. In a secure, private location. One they didn't have to pay for by the hour.

Clay stepped up to Brian's chest, slipped a finger into one of his belt loops, "I can think of a few things…now that Green Team's over." He looked up at the brunet through his eyelashes. Tried to play up the fact that he was a whole two inches shorter. 

The bobbing of Brian's throat told him he succeeded. 

"I have a request." Clay kissed Brian's neck, breathed deeply. He nuzzled underneath Brian's ear as he made a gasping noise. "When was the last time you fucked me properly?" 

He already knew the answer. More importantly, he knew Brian knew the answer. "Afghanistan, 3 hours before wheels up."

Okay. Stella's Dr. Ruth advise might be worth something. Brian's words had cracked like desert clay. 

Clay smirked as Brian's hands settled on his hips, thumbs grazing over his waist line beneath his shirt. Clay switched to the other side of Brian's neck, kissed sloppily along his jawline. 

"Fuck, why has it been months?" Brian groaned. His gripped tightened. Clay looped his arms around Brian's neck.

"Some stupid rule." 

Brian scowled at him, or more accurately the wall. "It wasn't stupid." 

Clay chuckled against Brian's neck, shrugged. Brian threaded his fingers into Clay's hair, pulled his head up to claim his lips with bruising pressure. 

"You've been working towards this your whole life," Brian muttered against his mouth as he pulled Clay's shirt off, "No way you're risking that…" 

Brian's mouth moved downward as he dropped the shirt on the floor. He pressed Clay back against the counter, used it for leverage as he kissed down Clay's chest. Clay's hips jolted forward as Brian flicked his tongue across his nipple.

"…on my ability to control myself while balls' deep in your ass." Brian bit at Clay's skin with extreme prejudice. Clay tossed his head back, hip struggling against Brian's hold now. 

Clay pushed his hands up Brian's neck into his hair. "Whatever you say," Clay pulled him up, voice whispy, "Just take your pants off." Brian obliged. Quickly. 

-.-.-

Clay gasped, throwing his head back against the pillows as Brian added another finger. Brian kissed his cheek, ran his other hand over Clay's chest. 

Little love bites dotted the pale skin. Brian took great pleasure in crafting every red spot. Clay's skin was glistening with sweat now, his dick bobbed against his stomach at each thrust of Brian's fingers. 

"You look fuckin' gorgeous," Brian groaned into Clay's ear. The blond's head turned into Brian's chest as he whined. 

"Hurry up." Clay's hand tightened in his hair, pulling against his head. Brian swallowed hard, ignored the throbbing of his own cock as Clay gasped again. 

Self-control was not a commodity Brian had a surplus of right now. Months of exclusively hand and mouth had left Clay overly sensitive and tight. Nearly so much as he had been the first time they'd done this. 

And patience was not Clay's forte. Or his. 

"Soon," Brian kissed his cheek again, "You're almost ready." Clay whined again, breath hot against Brian's chest. 

-.-.-

Clay breathed heavily, eyes closed as he lay on the bed. His skin was warm and tingly, his muscles felt vaguely like softened butter. 

"We're embarrassingly quick." Brian plopped back onto the mattress. His words were breathy and Clay smiled at the sound even as he slapped at Brian's chest.

A quick lift and a change in angle let Clay rest his head on Brian's shoulder. That was all it took to get Brian to gather him up against his side. No effort on Clay's part. "I spent an hour with your fingers up my ass, not that quick."

"It wasn't an hour." Brian chuckled, his hand moved to trace his fingers over Clay's abs. 

Clay sighed, turned his head into Brian's neck, "Close enough."

"You liked it." Brian added with a grin. Clay grabbed the pillow he'd been using before and shoved it into Brian's face. 

-.-.-

Sonny stared into his beer with no small degree of listlessness. The amber liquid was still. He tilted the mug, set it back flat. The liquid sloshed up one side, then the other. Never nearing the lip as it trembled back into place. 

"You okay, Sonny?" A hand pressed into Sonny's back as Davis spoke. She settled into the chair next to him. Her hand dragged up and down his back a few times before she moved it to the bar. 

A few hand gestures and a smile had a beer being set in front of her. She took a sip from her mug and waited. 

"Sometimes, this job sucks." Sonny gulped down his beer, slammed it back down. He turned his head to look at her, "Today was one of those times."

Davis nodded, "You want to talk about Danny? Or the mission?" Sonny shook his head. "It was an either/or question, Quinn." 

"The mission." Sonny flagged the bartender down for a refil.

-.-.-

Clay sunk onto a bench in the gym, giant grin plastered on his face. Brian didn't stop lifting the bar above his head, down to his shoulders, above his head, repeat. He did another seven reps before setting the weight into its hooks. 

"What's with the grin?" Brian knocked Clay's head to the side and then grabbed his water bottle. "It's too early for chipper."

"Bravo picked me." Clay's grin didn't falter. 

Brian chuckled, "Was there any doubt they would?" Clay lowered his head to his chest, his smile pulled even broader. 

"What about you?" Clay reached for the dumbbells as Brian set himself back into place below the bar. 

"Charlie team."


	9. Episode 9

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Brian's first day with Charlie team and Clay's Dr. Phil moment with Jason.

The alarm went off with blaring certainty. 5 o'clock. The sun was not up. Clay attempted to curl deeper into his pillow, but Brian's shoulder did not cooperate.

"Up and at 'em Spenser," Brian sat up, bringing Clay with him. The bastard. There was some shoving, some walking, and then a sudden spray of water followed by his - very manly - screech. 

"You are a cruel, cruel man." Clay groused as he gave in to the whole 'waking process.' Brian laughed at him. 

In an hour they were climbing into Clay's car. Brian napped on route to the base. Clay may have braked just slightly suddenly when he parked. Slightly.

Brian caught himself on the dash. He turned his eyes on Clay, "Be nice. You're suppose to make friends today, not enemies."

"You know me." Clay shrugged as he got out of the car. Brian followed with a chuckle.

"I do," he gestured back at the car, "That's why I said it." Clay flipped him the bird and kept walking. 

-.-.-

"Armstrong," Beau nodded in his general direction as Charlie team filtered into the ready room. Cages were unlocked, bags were thrown. All while the team surreptitiously watched Brian organizing his things on metal shelves.

Given that he'd literally been trained to notice when people were watching him - Brian waved hello. There was some chuckles and foot shuffling, but the watching stopped. 

Brian didn't turn around till he'd situated his rifles exactly as he wanted. He moved to the front of his cage, leaned against the doorway to watch his new team. Overtly. 

Charlie was five doms - Beau, Evans, Sheppard, Remi, and Trevor. 

Beau was by the book - which Brian appreciated, it was easier to predict a man's moves if you had access to his game plan. He was also tall, broad, and very capable of kicking everyone else's ass. The fact that four other doms all deferred to him without issue said as much. 

Evans was taller and broader than Beau, but not nearly as smart. He was the 2IC though, so Brian doubted he was as stupid as he let people think he was. Purposeful underestimation - Brian approved. 

Sheppard was leaner than his COs. He looked vaguely like a shrunken version of Beau. He also had sharp eyes. Brian was betting he was the designated sniper of the team. 

Remi hung back from the group as they all moved to the center of the room. He was the medic, or so Brian had been told, and like the rest of the group he was clean cut. 

The closest one to shaggy in the whole group was Trevor, who kept his hair just a touch long and had the top button of his shirt undone. Obviously, Beau kept a tight ship. 

Trevor was also the first to approach him, smiling with his hand out, "So you're the new rookie?" His smile widened into a full-on grin as he shook Brian's hand, "Damn happy not to be the low man on the totem pole anymore." 

Brian chuckled, "Still the shortest though." Trevor's grin morphed into a pout as Brian stood up straight. The rest of Charlie laughed.

"He's funny," Evans looked at Beau with an arched eyebrow, "We need funny." Beau shook his head as Remi snorted and Trevor spun around to defend his 'epic sense of humor that you lot just can't appreciate.' 

Beau clapped Brian on the shoulder, eyes still on the rest of his team. "Let's get him in the shoot house, then we'll see if he's still funny." 

-.-.-

"Just checking on you man --" Davis paused outside of Bravo's ready room. "-- Just call me when you can man, thinking about ya." 

Davis pursed her lips, took a breath, then entered the room - pulling the cart with Clay's christmas list. Sonny was leaning against his cage, phone pressed against chin. 

"That the rookie's stuff?" Sonny pushed off from the metal gate as Davis nodded. "He get anything good?" His face was long and his eyes blank.

"Rifles, scopes, ammo, the usual suspects." Davis gestured towards the cart with her head as she opened Clay's cage. Sonny leaned against the doorway as she pulled the cart inside. If it were Sonny's or someone else's cage she'd have unloaded it, but she didn't know Clay's system. Yet. 

Sonny chuckled, low and slow, "That's not very original."

"He was particular about his radio," Davis smiled, holding up the device in question. "Wrote down the model number AND serial number he wanted." 

"That's a little odd." Sonny stepped back as she exited the cage. She locked it back up, the cart now dominating the small space.

Davis snorted, "You're one to talk." Sonny laid a hand on his chest, mouth hanging open. "YOU request shark repellants on a semiregular basis." 

Sonny doubled over, a big bellied laugh echoing off the walls. Davis punched him in the shoulder. They headed for the plane. 

-.-.-

"Damn good shot," Evans said, face blank but for a jovial smile as he watched Charlie 3 thru 6 handle a no-comms scenario in the shoot house. Beau grunted next to him. 

"Decent shot." Beau conceded, eyes narrowed as he watched Charlie 6 disarm and ziptie an assailant as Charlie 5 swept the room. "Fits well."

Evans watched Beau's frown deepened, "Seaver said Armstrong's strength was in his people skills."

"Yeah, 'guy could charm a snake with nothing but a smile' I remember." Beau turned from the shoot house, leaned against the metal bar. "And yet Bravo, who could probably use a negotiator, the shit they pull, passed on him to pick another sharp shooter." 

"You think there's something Hayes knows we don't?" 

Beau pushed off from the bar. Evans kept his eyes on the boys in the shoot house till they headed for their imaginary exfil. Mission success. HVT captured, hostages secure, and no injuries. Not even a bullet to a vest. 

"Good luck, Armstrong," Evans blew out a breath and then turned to follow Beau back to the ready room. 

-.-.-

Beau took a seat at the table facing Brian. To his credit, he didn't pause in chewing. He did put his fork down, "You got a question for me, boss?" 

Charmer indeed. Beau bet that smile got him through a lot of doors. "Bravo had first pick this year." The smile didn't falter. "Yet they didn't pick you before I could."

"Not shocked," Brian plopped a green bean into his mouth.

"I was." Beau clasped his hands together beneath his chin. "You're a talker. The best negotiator Bravo has is Ray-"

Brian snorted, his lips immediately pulling back in a vicious grin, "So they're all shit at it." Beau raised a brow. Brian shrugged, "Hayes and Perry, they don't like me." 

"Really now?" Beau leaned back in his chair, hands dropping to the table. Brian picked his fork back up

"Yup!" Brian stabbed at a piece of meatloaf. "Way I see it, the draft worked out as it should have." 

Beau's forehead creased, "Oh yeah?" 

"Yeah," he pointed his fork at Beau as he chewed, "Clay'd've driven you up the wall." He shrugged again, eyes on his food, "And I'd probably have gotten into a fight with Hayes by now."

"You gonna explain your beef with Bravo at all?" Beau's fingers laced together and he slipped them behind his head. He kept his eyes focused on Brian, filing every microexpression away for further study. 

Brian looked up at Beau, "No beef. I only have enough patience for one creative show-off in my life." Beau's forehead finally smoothed. 

"I guess I made out better in the draw then I originally thought then." Beau stood up, clapped Brian on the shoulder as he moved to leave. "Welcome to DEVGRU."

Brian chuckled, looked over his shoulder as Beau walked away. "You're a much better interrogator than Perry." Brian called after him. Beau paused briefly, but kept on walking. 

-.-.-

Clay hunkered down with Hayes, back against a tree, his rifle on its tripod. Hayes didn't answer Clay's questions straight, he'd prompt him, forcing him to change his perspective. 

It was starting to drive him nuts.

"So I hear you and Armstrong got a place together." Hayes asked the question out of the blue. Clay had whiplash from the shift, tactical to personal.

"Master Chief Seaver tell you that?" Clay teased, looked down at the ground, "Word travels fast."

Hayes shook his head, "You can call him Adam now. You're not in green team." 

"That'll take some getting use to." Clay snorted. It had been a shift to call him Master Chief when he hit green team, switching back would probably take longer.

"He use to run with your old man right?" Clay could feel Hayes looking at him. He didn't meet his gaze. "So, you and Armstrong?"

"Yeah," Clay shrugged, eyes moving to scan the perimeter again. "Neither of us will be there much. Figure we'd save on expenses." Hayes was nodding in his peripheral vision. 

"I also heard you two had a bit of a dust up a few weeks back." Clay kept his gaze on the terrain. "You two good?"

Clay shook his head, "You know, my whole life I pictured how my first day as a DEVGRU operator might go. Never once did I imagine my team leader would be sitting here playing Dr. Phil." He glanced at Hayes. The man's eyes scrunched together. 

"What I care about are the guys on my team. And they cannot afford to be distracted. Margin of error is zero."

Clay swiped at his chin, eyes meeting Jason's briefly before he looked down at his rifle. 

"And to be honest, you know what?" Jason chuckled, his face splitting in a grin. "Technically, this is your second day as a DEVGRU operator."

"Another case of beer?" Clay's lips quirked. 

"No, that would be a bottle of tequila, coming my way. Blanco."

-.-.-

Brian was just packing it in for the day when Trevor came running into the room. Remi didn't even pause, he kept loading magazines as if Trevor banging open the door was a regular occurence. 

It probably was, given Trevor was now bouncing on his feet and drumming on the table, "Boss man says we got a mission, team room in 5, spin up in 40." 

"And you had to hit the wall with a door because?" Sheppard asked from his cage, setting his US Magazine down on a shelf. He got up to lean on the mesh fencing. "You crack the concrete again and Hendricks will shoot you."

"In the foot." Remi added, eyes still looking at his ammo.

Sheppard nodded at his words, "She was very specific." 

Brian chuckled to himself, throwing his backpack back on its shelf. He'd been right when he told Beau that the draft had put him where he needed to be.

"Will there be popcorn for this shooting?" Brian asked as he closed his cage. 

Sheppard pointed him, "I like the way you think. We'll charge admission, make a killing."

"Y'all are mean," Trevor whined, flipping them the bird as he walked out. Despite leaving before him, Brian and Sheppard walked into the briefing to find Remi already in his seat. 

"Hendricks!" Trevor called out as the petty officer walked in. She didn't pause en route to her seat. "You wouldn't actually shoot me would you?" 

This time, she did pause. The woman's green eyes slowly rose to meet Trevor's. Brian slide his chair a little farther away, just in case. "What did you break?" 

-.-.- 

Clay unlocked his door and opened it to a darkened apartment. He dropped his bag, threw his keys onto the counter, and locked it back up. He didn't turn any lights on as he maneuvered toward the bedrooms. 

The bed was empty when he got there. Brian had made it that morning while Clay was getting dress. Evened bounced a quarter off it. Clay's lips quirked up. And then immediately back down. 

With a sigh he plopped onto the bed, nose first into the pillows. He rolled around a bit and kicked his shoes off. The sheets and the comforter pulled out from beneath the mattress and he shifted around to wrap them around his body.

Clay cacooned himself with the bedding, pulled his knees up to his chest. The room remained both dark and quiet. Clay frowned, rolled onto his back to stare at the ceiling. A chill ran down his back and Clay burrowed further into the bed. He hated quiet.


End file.
